Skin so pale it matched his own, except for that creamy essence of life that distinguished her as human, even as it slowly faded away. Her hair was waist length and black, a curtain of silk that flowed over her prone form, barley covering the dark nipples on her large round breasts, flowing into a small waste and flaring into ample hips. It had been so long since he had seen an hourglass woman walk the streets proud of her body. Modern society had taken care of that, women thinking they had to be tall and thin, like skeletal corpses walking around with there fake tan, fake blond and fake eyes. Her eyes used to sparkle with an emerald fire but now they stared at the ceiling, glazed and black in death. He felt something twist deep in his gut, long pale fingertips reaching out to gently brush strand of silken darkness from her neck were two small puncture wounds could be seen at the junction of neck and jaw. Pale diamonds glinted at her ear and he smiled.
Over the last few days he had watched her, watched her love of laughter, of books of anything sparkly. Watching with amusement as she fretted over nothing and put gold glitter in a thin tasteful line upon her eyelids, emphasising the warm green of her eyes. Days of picking the perfect time to catch her scent on the wind and feel his fangs lengthening at the subtle perfume of her skin, her blood as it filled the air. So sweet, a musky loveliness that had tested his control no scent had tested in decades, perhaps longer. A pang of sorrow filled him...the feeding had gotten out of control she hadn’t gone under his enchantment when he stared into her eyes, hadn't moaned and writhed under his touch like every other blood apple had.
She had shouted, cursed even fought back, raining blows upon him, trying to pry him from her. Nothing had worked, the fight only caused his beast to rage out of control. He only meant to take a little after putting her under...but it had gone all terribly wrong. And this feeling of pity, of regret it was so strange. It had been so long since he had felt anything other then disdain and the need. Suddenly his breathing picked up, so fast he was almost hyperventilating. Grief and despair filled him and struck to his very core. So distraught he fled...not to his day time retreat but to holy ground. The blessed and sanctified ground were his now stood cased him pain, a dull burning that ached at him, told him to leave to stay away from such a holy place.
The great stone cathedral loomed through the darkness, spires and gargoyles with there twisted hate filled faces glaring down at him. He took a step forward. It burned. Light shone inside, a candles and lanterns causing the glass stained windows to shine in so many colours onto the ground below. Another step, this time two, a shriek filled the air. His, it was quickly silenced his teeth gritting them as he struggled step by step until he walked to the church doors. Carved wood, polish to a high shine with wrought iron handles stood in front of him. He pushed them open, every muscle shaking as a blast of wind rushed over him causing him to take a step back and his hands to grab the door, holding on so hard that he left a hand print in the wood.
The wind dies down and a voice whispered in the back of his mind, why was he here? Why would he bother when it hurt him so. His soft voice echoed in the still empty air. “I have to know” it chimed like bells but had a heat to it that promised only the most amazing sexual delights. “I have to understand......and repent” A howl sounded, lines appearing on his shoulders and back, dark red lines as his silk shirt fell to the ground in ribbons. Trickles of blood ran in little lines down his milky flesh, he arched hissing in agony, hands turning to claws in his pain and rage. Still he walked into the cathedral, pain searing along every nerve, causing every muscle to spasm as blood dripped down his torso and over his hips, staining the linen pants and soaking into the leather belt.
Lips were pulled back in a snarl, defiance written all over his features. He fell to his knees finger/claws tearing up the plush red carpet that ran up the aisle between the pews. He whined, high and pitiful as the burning sensation started to take it's physical toll. Smoke started to rise from his skin, pale flesh turning red and black as if invisible flames were starting to spread along his arms and legs. It was worse as he moved every agonising inch to the alter were a life size Jesus hung from his cross. “PLEASE” he screamed, terror and need echoing in his voice. By the time he made it to the alter chunks of flesh had burned away, leaving the white gleam of bone showing in certain places and destroying his handsome visage.
He lay there smoking and dying one hand stretched out in a plea, resting on the white wood alter were a white and gold cloth hung over the edges, one corner red with the blood from his hand. He had almost given up, almost let his sapphire eyes close and rest from there wide eyes pain filled gaze and then something seemed to stir in the still air. Outside thunder and lightning echoed and a thousand screams of agony railed against the cathedral but on the inside a soft pearly glow fell onto his features. It was excruciating, unlike anything he had ever felt and he burned, burned to nothing and yet not once did he cry out for it to stop, the only words that passed that lipless mouth and black fangs were “I'm sorry”.
Suddenly it stopped, the pain, the burning, everything and he uncurled looking at his hands in amazement. He was whole, untouched, as beautiful in his flesh as he was before he had made this pilgrimage for forgiveness. Ocean eyes looked up, shiny and swimming with unshed tears and saw a figure. Sandy hair and golden/hazel eyes looked down on him with a neaturel expression and it was at this point that the vampire noticed the shadow of great wings. Back to the chiselled handsome face, so much more masculine then his own and that expression was truly neaturel, nothing like any human could pull of. The being spoke, his voice filled with the sounds of trumpets, love and forgiveness.
“The holy Father hears your plea, Dartanion and thus he has welcomed you into his house. He has not forsaken you but not yet forgiven you. You seek answers but you do not yet know what questions to ask. I am here to guide you...to help you find the path. Know this, you regress even once and the Father will weep as your soul is given back to the unclean one.”
“Yes...for the Father sent our greatest warrior, Michael to fetch it from the depths of hell. It is here on the earthly plane, held in a secret place so that no demon or angel can claim it. Only you and your actions can decide whether it is taken to heaven to join your fallen family or back to the circles of hell for eternity”.
The vampire, who was still on all fours nodded, his hands curling into fists and a steely expression passed his eyes. He could do this, he would find the answers no matter how many riddles this angel threw at him.
“What must I do?”